


The Words That Try To Justify

by monkiainen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Seventh Year, Insecurity, M/M, Quidditch, Self-Esteem Issues, distant relationship with parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 00:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20647970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkiainen/pseuds/monkiainen
Summary: Oliver is trying so hard, too hard, to be perfect in everything he does. But what if it's not enough?





	The Words That Try To Justify

It started like any other of their fights have started. Percy accused Oliver of being too foolhardy, too interested in Quidditch, and not paying enough attention to their studies. Oliver accused Percy for being a pompous arse, too much interested in his books and his future and his grades, and not paying enough attention to Oliver and their relationship.

It always went like that. They were so different and yet so similar, but in moments like this it felt like a miracle they were a couple at all.

They shouldn't have worked at all, and yet they did. Except now.

Oliver was tired, so tired of everything. Of being the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, of trying to make his team the best in school, of countless hours of studying, of the NEWTS and the constant homework, of trying to make time for Percy, and finally, trying to find a bit of time for himself as well. It was just all too much for Oliver to handle.

It was no wonder then that one fateful night Oliver finally cracked under the pressure he was in.

They were fighting and screaming _(thank Merlin for Muffliato!)_ and being nasty to each other until Oliver felt he was bursting from the seams. Tears of frustration, anger, sadness started falling from his eyes despite Oliver's futile attempts to stop them. No. He couldn't, wouldn't cry in front of Percy. He was supposed to be the strong one, the athletic one, the one that would take care of everyone else's needs above his own. Strong men did not cry, strong men were not pansies. They were stoic and never showed their weaknesses, because by showing weakness you had failed.

And yet Oliver was not able to stop his tears from falling.

He had to get away, as far away from Percy as possible before the other boy saw his tears. Percy would not want his boyfriend to be a miserable, crying _weakling_ for Merlin's sake! Percy deserved more than that.

Percy might have shouted for Oliver to stop, to come back, but Oliver wasn't listening. He just kept on running and running until he found himself in the Quidditch pit. Well. It made sense, of course, because Quidditch had always been Oliver's safe place to go. Until recently, that was, because now he was in his seventh year in Hogwarts and this was his final chance to win the Quidditch Cup and everyone was looking up to him like he was some sort of miracle maker that would turn their team to a winning one and Oliver did try his best but he was not Harry bloody Potter with his amazing skills. He was just a Keeper, not a hero and no matter how hard Oliver practiced and pushed his team it was never going to be enough. He was a failure, a fake, a loser.

Oliver wasn't able to stop his tears anymore, and so he wept and wept and wept, curled in a ball in a cold, unforgiving ground. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and with big, shuddering breaths Oliver tried to get as much oxygen in his lungs as he could but it wasn't enough and oh Merlin how fast his heart was beating, he was surely going to have a heart attack when there was nobody near to help him so he would die, die alone and miserable like he deserved. Maybe if Oliver were lucky they would find his body before it was too far rotten to be recognizable.

It took a while for Oliver to notice there was another person besides him, a warm body draping themself over Oliver and holding him close, whispering sweet nothings to his ear. It took another moment, way too long it should have taken him, that the person holding him was no other than Percy, his sweet, nerdy Percy who had followed Oliver outside. Oliver knew he should have felt disgusted by himself, by letting Percy see how weak he really was, but at that moment Oliver couldn't care less. It felt so good to be held by Percy, to let everything go, for once letting someone else to take the lead.

Oliver didn't know how long they laid together in the ground, Percy holding him and caressing Oliver wherever his hands would reach the other boy. What Oliver did know that it felt so good, so freeing to be held like this, like a small child without a care in the world. It was… no, Oliver shouldn't think like that. It was wrong. So what if his father never showed his feelings nor held Oliver in his arms? He wasn't the only child with a distant father, he shouldn't go and look for a substitute somewhere else. And he really shouldn't think of Percy that way, really, because Percy was his _boyfriend_ for crying out loud and not some father figure to him.

But then Percy hugged him, and held him in his arms, and before Oliver knew what was happening, he blurted out the very thing he had previously thought he shouldn't say: "Daddy…."

Oh shit. Oh no no no. That was it. Now Percy would think he was weak and disgusting and Percy would leave him and…

"Shh, it's okay little one. Daddy's here and will take care of you, it's going to be okay."

Wait what? Oliver lifted his tear-streaked face from Percy's shoulder and looked at his boyfriend with a disbelieving look in his eyes. There was no disgust or judgement in Percy's face, on the contrary. Percy looked at him like Oliver was the most precious thing in the world, like Oliver was the very thing Percy wanted to protect and take care of.

"Look, I understand you have questions and doubts, but…. I'd really like to take care of you for once, okay? If that's what you really want, Ollie, babe?" Percy whispered, petting Oliver's hair.

It felt good, so good, and Oliver wanted nothing more than let go, to let Percy to take care of him. But…

"Are you sure it's okay? That I… call you… with that name? That I'm not weird and disgusting and…"

Oliver was quite effectively silenced with a kiss, and if possible, Percy held him even closer.

"Stop doubting yourself, babe. Now, let's get inside and I'll make you a bath in the Prefect's bathroom."

Hmm. Well, maybe this new… turn in their relationship wouldn't be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: _He had no idea he needed it until it happened. One second, they were fighting like always, and the next, he was breaking down from the weight of everything he'd been dealing with. One awkward hug, several tears, and a mumbled 'Daddy' later, something between them's shifted and he can't say he minds it all that much._


End file.
